


Plaid

by orphan_account



Series: Nothing Feels Like You [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Romance, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 12:17:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4304715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hiya, Sammy.” He grinned, “What's up?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam pouted, “I can't find my clothes, Dean.” Dean looked at him, confused. “What the hell do you mean?” He asked. Sam mentioning him to follow him, and showed him his wardrobe. The wardrobe was empty. The only thing left were his jeans and his boxers.</p>
<p>Dean shook his head, “Are you telling me we got a thief that stealing our clothes in the bunker?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam shrugged, “I guess.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plaid

* * *

 

Staring at his wardrobe, Sam thought of the last time he did the laundry.

 

He scrunched his nose, _that was three days ago_. He scratched the back of his neck, then he walked to the doorway. Dean was coming out from his room, wearing a black t-shirt, and smiled as he saw his brother.

 

“Hiya, Sammy.” He grinned, then raised his eyebrows at the look on his brother's face. “What's up?”

 

Sam pouted, “I can't find my clothes, Dean.” Dean looked at him, confused. “What the hell do you mean?” He asked. Sam mentioning him to follow him, and showed him his wardrobe. The wardrobe was empty. The only thing left were his jeans and his boxers.

 

Dean shook his head, “Are you telling me we got a thief that stealing our clothes in the bunker?” Sam shrugged, “I guess.” This is bad. Dean hurriedly left Sam's room, and back a few minutes later.

Sam was giving him ' _what-are-you-doing_ ' look. Dean shrugged, patting his jeans' pocket, “I don't want to lose mine too. Better safe than sorry.” He grinned.

 

Sam rolled his eyes, “You're no helping.”

 

“Hey, c'mon Sam. We're going to buy you new shirts, okay?”

 

“But they were my favourite shirts!”

 

Dean rolled his eyes and patted his brother's back. “C'mon, kid. We will find whoever stole your shirts.”

 

* * *

 

A few weeks after that, Sam saw one of his favourite shirts placed neatly on the bed. “What the hell?” He said as he picked up the shirt.

 

He brought it close to his face, _freshly washed_. So, there was no thief in the bunker. But, Dean wouldn't steal any of his shirts, he always ask. Then, _who_ —

 

“Hello, Sam.” Sam jumped at the voice, and turned around only to see Castiel standing in the doorway, wearing his shirt— _oh_.

 

_Of course_ , Sam thought.

 

“ _Castiel_ ,” How could he forgot this man was in the bunker?

“Are you stealing my clothes?” Sam asked, staring at the ex-angel.

 

Castiel smiled shyly at him, playing with the hem of the shirt. “I found your clothes in the laundry and decided to try it. And it feels _good_. So, I keep it.

 

Sam shook his head, “You know, all you have to do is ask.” He smiled at the smaller man.

 

Castiel blushed, and shifted closer, handing him his other clean clothes. “I tried all of them. But this one is _very_ comfortable.”

 

Sam chuckled, no way in hell he will getting that plaid shirt back. “Yeah, well you can keep it.”

 

“Hey, dude. I found your shirt— _whoa_.” Dean raises his eyebrows at the sight of Castiel wearing his brother's shirt.

 

“I guess we just caught the little thief?” He asked. Sam rolled his eyes, took the shirt Dean was holding. “Yes. Apparently, he likes using my clothes.”

 

Dean smirked and he slapped the poor ex-angel's back. “I'm going to make something for lunch. You two, keep it PG.”

 

 

Sam threw a pillow at his brother and hit him in the head.


End file.
